


By The Book

by audiaphilios



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, Gay Space Rocks, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy References, Kent Parson Birthday Bash, M/M, flarjab stickwhacky, sorry that tag showed up and i couldn't resist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audiaphilios/pseuds/audiaphilios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My requestor encouraged bizarre AUs. My mind went many places, but stuck on the idea of "space neighbors". This is what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Book

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schadenfreudessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schadenfreudessa/gifts).



> Promptor, thank you so much for this. I enjoy bizarre AUs AND Patater AND Kit Purrson, so it was an utter delight to go absolutely silly with this. I hope you like/are familiar with Hitch Hiker's Guide, but I don't think it's entirely necessary. It's mostly just silly space references and two beings finding themselves simply and happily together. This is really silly.

Tater gets called into the Big Guy’s office for his new assignment, and is surprised to see Zimbo there, with his back panel open and a small blond man tinkering in his lumbar region.

“Don’t worry about him,” the Big Guy says from over by the window. He’s got the best view on the planet—it’s said that from here, he can see what’s going on across the multiverse. The transdimensional eyes probably don’t hurt, either. “He’s being recommissioned. Reconditioned. Refurbished?”

“No need to worry, Tater,” Zimbo says in his usual monotone. “I’m going to be better.”

The blond man pipes up from around his shoulder.

“That’s right, Mr. Zimbo. We’ll get you back up and in stellar condition—haha!—before you know. I’m an artist, after all. The worlds will be more beautiful than you’ve ever imagined!”

“I’ve never imagined,” Zimbo says, and the small blond man laughs and pats his shoulder lightly before turning back to his work.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll have you in tip-top shape, better than ever before. Easy as pie.”

“Pi is one of the most complex irrational numbers…”

“Oh hush, honey, don’t worry. It’s just an expression. I’ll make sure to get you the full set.”

Tater looks at the Big Guy, who shrugs. “We’re looking to go a new direction with the next edition of The Book, and Zimbo’s documentation was just a bit too dry, so we called Bits in. We’d like you to revisit some of his old stomping grounds, write up reviews with a bit more character.”

“I’ll have you know I am not dry. I have highest grade Flexiflesh, and take impeccable care of my vessel.”

“You sure do, mister, but every tin man needs a bit of heart. Now, let’s leave these boys to their plans, and we can go discuss your upgrade strategy. I’ve got a new recipe I want to test out, too.” Bits closes up Zimbo’s back panel and turns towards the door, which opens with an excellently-crafted, if somewhat obtuse, haiku.

“I don’t need to—“ Zimbo stops abruptly, staring at his abdomen. Bits looks delighted.

“Excellent! That’ll be your appetite, kicking in right on time.” He claps his hands together, then turns out his fingers to crack his knuckles. Shooting a grin at the Big Guy, he grabs Zimbo by the arm and drags him out the door.

The Big Guy gives Tater an apologetic shrug. “Bits is one of the best biomechanics in existence, and he had an idea he wanted to run with. I think he was feeling homesick. This isn’t exactly Kansas. Or Georgia.”

Tater has learned better than to try to engage the Big Guy when he gets like this, so he waits another moment or so before saying, “So I have new assignment?”

“Yes, yes! Here’s your list, your keys, your device, your device to control your device, your translator, your SuperFares card, your currency container, and your Book. Try giving Zimbo’s entries a read while you’re traveling, and think about how you can improve them. Remember, we want something with more character, more splash—something that’ll remind folks of the importance of their towel.”

Tater nods, accepting his assigned goods and storing them in his sack, keeping the keys and list out for the time being.

“Thanks, Big Guy,” Tater says, and makes his way towards the door. The haiku is soothing and baffling at the same time. The assignment list isn’t much different, but Tater’s been dying to get off-planet again. He makes his way to his assigned travel pod and keys in the details of his first destination, pulling out his Book and settling in.

 

((O))_X_((O))

 

Tater’s come to understand what the Big Guy meant about Zimbo’s writing. Every place he’s been to so far has had three or fewer sentences written about it, but there’s been so much more to explore, so much more that makes each place worth visiting.

Well, except Cadawalius. Tater had actually trimmed out one of Zimbo’s sentences as being too florid.

So now, nearing the end of his list, Tater finds himself on LV-A90, a small planet in the same galaxy as Allosimanius Syneca but, according to Zimbo’s entry, not noted for its beauty so much as its cold. Tater doesn’t mind the cold—his home planet’s climate is noted in The Book as being one of the most frigid and unwelcoming. This is counterbalanced easily by its inhabitants’ warmth and hospitality, making it an ideal place for tourists who despise going outside at all.

The natives of LV-A90, Zimbo wrote, are few. This is practically a ringing endorsement, Tater feels. Zimbo actually noted the presence of other beings, which means something must have stood out.

His ship has been landing according to Zimbo’s previously-used coordinates, so he expects to be landing somewhere near where he encountered the natives. He does not expect to be immediately tackled to the ground by a creature the size of a small, incredibly furry elephant.

It rests its large paws on Tater’s shoulders and gazes into his eyes. It is the most beautiful thing Tater has ever seen. He ties his towel around his neck, just in case, and begins gabbling nonsense at it and scritching its underbelly. It must decide it likes him, because it goes boneless atop him. Literally, apparently, as what were previous teeth and claws and, well, skeletal structure, seem to have just turned into a warm gooey filling inside a large, purring fur sack.

Tater is charmed, and keeps scritching. It’s actually quite nice, given the temperature of the air and land around them. He things the tundra might actually be defrosting a bit beneath them.

A small noise to his left causes Tater to turn his head. He’s startled to meet the remarkable eyes of a rather ordinary-looking biped.

“You’re not Zimms,” the biped says.

“Nope. I am Tater!” The creature on top of him must sense his distraction, because the feeling of bones reforming through the gooey mass above him is unsettling. He gets his hands moving again.

“Kit likes _you_.”

 

((O))_X_((O))

 

Parsec is the biped’s name. His eyes change colors, though Tater has yet to determine what, if anything, triggers that change. Parsec, Tater decides, is _actually_ the most beautiful thing that Tater has ever seen, all apologies to Kit.

Tater explains his mission to Parsec, who seemed eager for information about Zimbo. At least until he mentioned his upgrade at the hands of the biomechanic.

“Ugh. He’ll be useless now.”

“Not so! He will still be him, but biomechanic will give him his heart!”

“But he won’t care about the game anymore! He won’t come play with me!”

This is how Tater learns about Flarjab Stickwhacky. Tater, it turns out, is very good at Flarjab Stickwhacky. It is played with long flat sticks, and a flattish, roundish rock, and knife-shoes. Tater quite likes the knife shoes.

It is a game only able to be played in the coldest of climates, so that everything glides on the ice rather than sinks in dirt, and Tater is surprised that it has not reached his own home planet yet. He is determined to bring it with him next time he visits.

He finds himself wondering if Parsec would want to come, too.

After long days of playing, Tater and Parsec go back to Parsec’s home and scritch Kit until she melts on them.

 

((O))_X_((O))

 

Tater’s progress on updating The Book is going very slowly, now. He’s been using the history and technical minutiae of Flarjab Stickwhacky as an excuse to stay, and he knows it. He does actually have a job, but he wonders if he could get away with just staying here. Except with a visit or two home. He doesn’t think Parsec would mind.

Back on his ship, there’s a list of places he’s supposed to visit, as yet incomplete. There’s a comm device that’s been blinking with messages for an untold amount of time, considering he’s never bothered to figure out how quickly days pass here on LV-A90. They pass too quickly, they never last long enough.

Tater’s honestly surprised how long he gets away with it, but he’s also honestly surprised when Zimbo himself shows up, the biomechanic in tow. Tater goes out to meet them at the ship, with Parsec keeping his distance, though he invites them both inside.

Kit does _not_ like Zimbo.

He and Tater step outside to talk, leaving Parsec and Bits to stare at each other warily.

“I do not want to go back, Zimbo.” It breaks Tater’s heart to even think about it. Zimbo, surprisingly, puts his hand on Tater’s shoulder and gives him a knowing look.

“It’s okay, Tater. I understand. The Big Guy’s been keeping an eye on you, thinks you’re doing great work here. He actually sent me to tell you it’s okay. The work isn’t everything, and you’re allowed to be happy. I’ll finish up the list.”

Tater sticks a finger in his ear and wiggles it around, checking, because he’s almost certain that this Zimbo is speaking an entirely different language from the Zimbo he used to know. Zimbo laughs—laughs!—and gives his shoulder a squeeze before removing his hand.

“I really do get it, you know. Bits has helped me learn all sorts of things.”

Tater raises his eyebrows at that, and casts a significant look back at the house. Zimbo, in turn, raises his own eyebrow and gives the house, and Tater, his own significant look. Tater cracks first and laughs, throwing an arm over Zimbo’s shoulder as they head back inside.

Bitty’s taken over Parsec’s kitchen, Kit melted around his feet as he checks something on the stove. He and Parsec are chatting amiably about Bits’ old Flarjab Stickwhacky trainer, who left Allosimanius Syneca years before and taught him all about the game, as well as purrfs. Parsec watches his movements raptly as he promises that this will be the best purrf treat Kit has ever had.

His eyes shoot to Tater, then Zimbo, as the latter steps carefully around Kit and puts an arm around Bits’ waist on the pretense of looking in the pot. Tater takes the opportunity to slide next to Parsec himself and bump his shoulder.

“You would not mind if I…stay on with you, no? Zimbo has come to tell me he is taking over his old job. I know we never talked, but…”

Parsec’s eyes are changing rapidly now, and he wraps his arms around Tater’s waist, burying his face in his shoulder.

Softly, Tater can hear him whispering, “Yes, yes. Stay with me, stay with me, please yes.”

Tater closes his eyes and squeezes him back.

 


End file.
